The Day The Music Died
by Amphibea
Summary: Read this if you hate teenyboppers...Also if you like things like Pink Floyd, David Bowie, M*A*S*H*, etc. BTW, goto "Explanation", also found on this site for references.


*The Day The Music Died*  
  
*Perfect day*  
"Tradgedy!"  
Melinda reached over to the Steps (tm) alarm clock and switched it off. Today was the day. She had been waiting for ages and it had finally come! The curtains were drawn and the sunshine fell on her face as she lay in bed, treasuring the moment forever. The show started at 2pm and she'd be able to watch it on Sky. Everyone would be watching it, and she had to. She didn't want to be the odd one out.   
Melinda ripped a page off her Backstreet Boys (tm) 2005 calender, and stared at the poster of J, from 5ive. He was her absoulute favourite, if you didn't count Nick from Backsteet Boys. She deamed of him rescuing her from a tall tower, just this night. He stared into her eyes... Melinda sighed as she remembered and kissed the poster on her wall. One of them, anyway. The room was plastered with pictures of the wonderful pop stars.   
She got dressed, picking a flourescent pink top with lime-green hipsters, and spent about twenty minutes getting her hair and make-up perfect. Her drawers had either make-up, clothes or CDs in, and her wardrobe contained only bright clothes, all with brand names like adidas or the new LXS label. Everyone wore it, and she had to fit in, to be cool. That's all it was about, really. She didn't need any education at all, just looks and knowing the right people, so she'd be able to get a rich husband later. Maybe she'd meet Nick and he'd ask to marry her! Then she'd just do the housework while he sang about her to all those billions of people, she wasn't sure how many because she wasn't paying attention in geography, but it was probably something like 100 billion people. She giggled, and got a mobile phone from her bag to phone her best friend Minnie.  
  
*Queen Bitch*  
Minnie had woken up early that morning and was getting dressed after her long hot shower. A ring came from downstairs.   
"Mum!"  
Downstairs her mother picked up the phone, then shouted "Minerva!"  
Minnie scowled. She hated that name. "It's Minnie, mum!And can you bring the phone here - i'm not dressed yet!" Her mother opened the door and gave the phone to the barely-clad Minerva. "Can't you knock?!"She frowned and impatently grabbed the phone. "Yeah, hang on," she said to Melinda.   
Minnie's mother was putting the CDs on the floor into the rack. "Get lost! I'm trying to talk, mum. Just leave my stuff alone! Buzz off!"Then back to the phone : "Sorry, that's just my mum messing about with my stuff. I dunno - why can't she just leave me alone?" Pause. "Yeah, course i'm gonna watch it! I'm not like that freak Eve!"  
Screams of laughter on both sides of the conversation.  
"Yeah, anyway, it begins at two, I think. I'll phone you later - I need to get dressed. Actually, come round to my house for lunch."  
  
*Living on my own*  
People started flooding into the enormous auditorium. This was the biggest ever buillt - it could hold over three-quaters of a million people. It had just been bought by an extremely rich person - Mrs. Doncaster. She was only nineteen, but had already married and lost her spouse. Mr. Doncaster died when he fell off his balcony. He was a billionaire - and he left all of his money to his wife, who never talked to the media and refused even to tell them who she was and where she came from. Nobody knew she liked pop music, but after she invited every major popstar and DJ, hardly any people had doubts.  
She stood at the front of the stage with a microphone connected to her lip. The 750000 people stopped talking and waited for her to speak. They had never heard her speak before - very few had.   
"Thank you all for coming."  
A great roar of approval.  
"I wanted to invite all of your favourite popstars because thay really influenced today's society. You probably wouldn't be what you are now without their music. So please, enjoy the concert."As the exited, the applause was overwhelming, but even more so when Steps came onto the stage to perform their new song "Y don't you".  
  
*Lazin' on a Sunny Afternoon*  
The two girls sat in front of the 30-inch display, listening to the music pumping out of the stereo speakers all over the room.   
"I love that song!" squealed Melinda as the applause went up.  
"Yeah, they wrote it specially for Mrs. Doncaster."  
"She's really wierd. I wouldn't stay so secret after marrying a billionaire!"  
"Nah, neither would I. Did'ya know that she paid each person that came there half a million pounds?"  
"Yeah - she's off her rocker. But all the great people are there and this is the biggest thing...ever!"  
"True." They both turned to the TV again, where they saw people dancing to dance music.  
  
*Death Trip*  
Mrs. Doncaster smiled from the wings of the stage as the stars all came on at the same time. After whispering a command down her mobile, she summoned the men, all carrying machine guns.  
"Unit 8 are in the front row, waiting for the signal. Units 1 to 4, go wait in the left wings. Unit 10 come with me. All the rest, spread yourselves evenly amongst the exits. Go."  
The men scattered, only 14 remained with her. "Adamson, go take over the AV contols. And the rest of you, hide your guns."  
  
*You make the change, you rearrange me till i'm sane.*  
Mrs. Doncaster walked on, in a long, flowing black robe, followed by 13 young men, all in black suits. She was not smiling, but her "bodyguards" were. They walked to the front of the throng of "musicians", to the white square at the centre of the stage.   
"Thank you all for coming." She smiled. "Now for the finale..."  
She stretched her hands down and out, and tilted her head up. The countdown had begun. Her lips were seen moving ever so slightly as all the now noiseless crowd watched. She was counting, and when she got to one...  
Her hands slammed onto her sides and she brought them out of the robe holding a rifle in each hand. The audience was watching her silent countdown they had not noticed the "bodyguards" pulling out sub-machine guns from their bullet-proof suits. The audience was too stunned to speak and the "musicians" looked at each other in terror.  
A cackle cut through the dead silence. Mrs. Doncaster pointed the rifles at the crowd, which screamed before the "bodyguards" turned around and aimed at the pop stars behind them. The idiots screamed and ran off, into the wings as the men on stage fired at random. Blood spilt from the pretty, screaming faces of those that just stood. And those running off, into the wings, towards the men in ambush had a few seconds of hope before the guns rearranged their features.  
Two had managed to get by the machine guns, to the edge of the stage. Both were men - one blonde and the other bald, wearing only trainers and baggy trousers. Mrs. Doncaster saw them in the corner of her eye and sighed. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but what had to be done had to be done. Carefully aiming, she pulled a trigger and both men were now off the stage. She had shot the bald one, but the other she saw standing up and beginning to run. Again she aimed, and again at the bald one, just in case. The other could run for a few seconds, to build up hope.  
  
*Staring down a bullet, let me make my final stand*  
He felt sick, but he had to keep running. Never mind his friend, who could go to hell for all he cared, but he had to get himself out of this. Nothing was as important as keeping himself alive. In his blind apathy, he didn't realise that the crowd was edging away from him.   
Some girl a few meters in front of him screamed as her stomach exploded and blood was spattered onto him. Only then did he look back and stood still, paralysed with terror. His eyes opened wide, then even wider.  
Mrs. Doncaster was standing at the edge of the stage, rifle in hand and pointing at him. There was no-one around him except the mad, dying fan - he was alone in the circle of those who did not wish to die now. Yes now there could be now mistake, she was definitely going to destroy him.   
"No-" he whispered, and this could be heard in the silence. In the split second between Mrs. Doncaster pulling the trigger and the head of the man exploding with whatever, the crowd began to scream again - piercing, heart-tearing screams that most couldn't ignore. She could. She had already shot one in the audience, why not another? No, there was no time. Now this was going to be the grand finale.  
  
*Tragedy!*  
Melinda and Minnie screamed as Mrs. Doncaster first took out the rifle and clutched each other. This couldn't be happening! But it was all so real. And the Backstreet Boys were there!   
"No! Nick!!!"  
Melinda saw the closeup as nick ran to the wings - only to be shot in the head by a man. The blood spilled out of Nick's body as it did from her face. She went pale and passed out. Minnie wanted to help her, but morbid fascination kept her glued to the screen. She saw the people - her favourite popstars being murdered, felt grief, but yet grinned. Only now did she understand why Eve liked this kind of thing so much - it was amazing. Horribly, terrificly, gruesomely amazing.  
  
*Ticking away*  
Mrs. Doncaster asked the leader of each unit if all their men were out yet. Two were reported missing.  
"They knew the danger. We don't have the time to rescue them." Her voice was icy cold.  
Above them, a window turned into glass splinters which hurtled down, missing the large group. A few seconds later, two men jumped out, but thanks to their military training, landed safely six meters below. "We had to lock the G-17 doors again, but the crowd was coming, so we locked the one behind us too."  
Mrs. Doncaster nodded, secretly pleased that all of her men were out. Many, so many would be killed from their side, and none on hers. This had to be a record. "Well done. Now, units 1 to 5, you take the mini-buses, and the rest take the coach. We have-" she looked down at her watch "-eight minutes." She got into her limosine with 3 others and drove away. Leaving so many to die without consciously knowing...  
  
*And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too...*  
Minnie couldn't hake her sight off the TV. All the blood - she turned the volume up. Something was going to happen - something big - something wonderfully evil. At that point Melinda woke up and stared in horror at the screen.   
"No!" she screamed at the top of her voice.   
Minnie went over to the door, remote control in hand, and locked it, taking the key. She turned the volme right up, so that she couldn't hear Mel's pathetic whimpers. She heard screaming, confusion and most of all fear. She loved fear. She saw why Eve was like she was - she was not afraid of fear. Wonderful, wonderful fear.   
Melissa crawled to her, then managed to make herself stand up and said to her. "Please, for God's sake, stop this! Switch it off! Minnie!!"  
The other girl turned round. "Minerva, to you!" With these words she lashed out at Melinda and brought her face close to the giant screen. Melinda, now sprawled across the floor, took a cusion and put it over her ears to hide the sounds.  
Minerva watched the people scurrying around like ants. Something was going to happen...  
A wave of sound went through the room. It came out of all the stereo speakers at once and the screen pictured only orange, for one millisecond, before it exploded because of the sound, into Minerva's head. Shards of glass flew into her eyes, her open mouth and into her body. Some flew out again, onto the other side of her, piercing her brain. Her soul had only really been born a few minutes ago - she had never felt so free, and now it had left the body.   
Melinda looked up and saw the dead remains of the body, and kept screaming.  
  
*It's a god-awful small affair, to the girl with the mousy hair*  
Eve had been watching her tiny hand-held TV, on mute. She took every precaution. The screen went orange for a millisecond, then just black. What was the fuss about? she wondered. It wasn't really that many people. OK, so many would have died at home, but all of them had a choice - to die or not to die. And she had been warned.   
She had about an hour left to wait, and decided to take a walk, to see what damage was done. Outside, she heard a lot of screaming and shouting. Another decision - to help or not to help. No, she wouldn't help them, even though they were dying. They all deserved to die, except the few very, very, very unlucky people who were flicking channels. Actually, they deserved to die, if they were that unlucky. And on every street she saw the same. Occasionally she saw the odd bloodstained corpse lying in the front drive, in front of whom was a broken front window.  
  
*Anarchy in the UK*  
England was in ruins. Almost everyone who knew a teenage pop-junkie was in tears that day. Throughout the week all you heard was "They were so young!" and "At least they'll be with their friends." And others took advantage of this. Corrupt heavy-metal fans looted the houses, and the people inside were too distraught to stop them. Life insurance salesmen came to every door and succeeded in selling a large number of people insurance with outrageous contracts. But people were somehow convinced this could happen again, but it mustn't be allowed to. The Japanese company Toshiba heard about this and within a week televisions with "unbreakable" screens and "automatic volume contols" were being bought hurriedly.  
People wondered about what happened to Mrs. Doncaster, and those who knew her, a girl called Eve Tomenscread. No-one ever heard about them after the day that music died.   
  
*You must be evil*  
"Why did you do it?" asked John Miller, tied to his plain wooden chair. The shadow of a knife appeared in his view.   
"You don't ask the questions. How did you find us?"  
A kick seemed to make him talk. "I followed you to the empty flat. I rented a room and i was going to tell the police tomorrow, except you caught me."  
The knife in the girl's hands was pushed into his shin. "You were going to tell the police?!"  
"Why did you do it?"  
"She hated pop. So did I. She hated the idiots who took the good songs from the charts, and replaced them with the ones that people listen to to decrease their brain capacity."  
Mrs. Doncaster walked into the room to see how the interrogation was going on.   
"You killed millions. You must be evil."  
"Has he told anyone where he went?" asked Mrs. Doncaster.  
"No," said the girl.  
"Dispose of him, then."  
John screamed as the knife went through hid chest, slowly. "You must be evil."  
Eve smiled. "I am."  
  
*Deep Purple (Pulp)*  
John now was a bloody mess on the floor.  
"Why did you do that?" Eve asked the bodyguards.  
"He wouldn't stop shouting. He screamed he would tell everyone where we were."  
Mrs. Doncaster looked at the deep purple pulp. "Did he look like he would after you cut his head off?"  
"No, but you know how nice this-" he kicked the gore "-feels."  
"Yes. Yes, i do. Well done." She turned to Eve. Thank you for you help so much. You don't know what this means to me. I'm sorry you had to change your name and run away from your parents."  
"It's alright. This is something i've dreamed of for about five years."  
"You were a very good publicity agent. But you still remember the next step in my plan, don't you?"  
"Yes." Eve sighed deeply. It had to be done. She couldn't go back now.  
  
*Through early morning fog I see...*  



End file.
